


Ruined

by rizlowwritessortof



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Nipple Play, Smut, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizlowwritessortof/pseuds/rizlowwritessortof
Summary: Dean comes home from a hunt, and he’s had something on his mind…Beta'd by the lovely @deanscarlett





	Ruined

You wake, suddenly fully alert out of a dead sleep, but not yet sure why. Then you hear the soft rustle of clothing being removed, a weary sigh, and you smile as Dean climbs into bed beside you.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers as he curls up behind you, his arm pulling you into his warmth as he kisses the back of your neck. You breathe his name and turn to your back, his lips on yours before you can utter another word, tender and insistent. “Want you… need you,” he murmurs into your kiss, his hand pulling at your t-shirt, and you lift yourself slightly, allowing him to pull it over your head before he kisses you again, stealing your breath as his fingers tug at your nipple.

You hum softly, your hand raising to his face, and before you can move any farther, he gently takes your hand and places it beside your head, his fingers threading through yours. A little thrill zips through you as you understand. He doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t want to be comforted. He needs to be in control tonight, and you feel the soft curve of his smile as he senses your understanding. “Dean?” you whisper, just checking in.

He brushes his lips across yours. “I’m good, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” His kiss is a little hungrier now, and he speaks again, the low rumble of his voice sending goosebumps blooming over your skin as his hand moves from yours, fingers trailing down the inside of your forearm and back to your nipple. “Need you to be good for me, can you do that, baby?” A soft whimper is your only answer as you nod, and he smiles into your kiss again. “Good girl.”

You melt into his kiss, the taste of the whiskey he’s been drinking on his tongue, and you wonder fleetingly just how long he’s been home. He’ll talk to you eventually about the hunt they just returned from, whatever world-in-danger crisis he’s carrying on his shoulders at the moment. But right now what he needs is to bend something in his world to his will, and you long to give him what he needs.

“Missed you so much,” he whispers into your ear, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he nips the soft skin on your neck sucking a gentle mark there. “I’ve been thinking about something, last couple of days. If you want to, I’d like to try it.”

“What?” you ask breathlessly as his tongue laves over the mark he just made.

“I want to make you come just from this.” He moves his finger over your nipple, then pinches at it, and you gasp softly. “Not tonight. Tonight I need my cock in you so bad, baby.” You’re almost panting now at his words, aching for him. “But I want to spend some time on these, just get them all pink and swollen and sensitive. Been dreaming about sucking and biting these beautiful nipples, making you squirm, making you beg.”

He’s breathes his last few words over your left breast, then licks over the tip of the stiff bud, making you jump. His tongue feels slightly rough as he drags it across the sensitive surface, and he repeats the motion, mimicking the same with his fingertip on the other side, rubbing back and forth. Your back is arching a little as your body seeks more, your hand moves of its own accord and you bury your fingers in his hair.

Everything stops, and there is no sound but your harsh breathing as he grabs your wrist firmly, placing it back beside your head. “Do I need to tie you down?” he growls softly, and your clit throbs almost painfully as a quiet whine leaves your lips. “If you move again, I will. You understand?” A pinch to your nipple forces a soft cry from you, and you nod.

“Yes, Dean.”

“That’s my good girl. Just keep your hands where they are, baby.” He bends back to his task, laving and rubbing over just the tips of your nipples, and you think you may go completely insane from the constant delicious torture. Every nerve in your body is singing, your pussy clenching, your panties getting wetter by the second.

He changes tactics now, swirling his tongue around your taut flesh, his fingertip again imitating the same motion on your other breast, and you can barely lie still. When he finally covers the tingling peak with the heat of his mouth and sucks, your fingers claw into the pillow beside your head and you can’t control your sounds any longer. He’s rolling the other nipple between his finger and thumb as he increases the suction, then bites down gently, tugging.

He goes on like this for several minutes, suckling at you harder and harder before pulling with his teeth, and then, with a hard little nip, he moves to the other side. His fingers keep stimulating the swollen, almost sore little nub as his wicked mouth goes to work on the right nipple, and you’re barely controlling the urge to grab his hair, or shove your fingers into your panties to find some relief from the tension built to a towering level within you. When he finally lifts his head, you’re almost crying from need.

“I need to see this, sweetheart,” he says, his voice raspy. You close your eyes against the glare, and he leans to turn on the lamp beside the bed, letting out a low moan as he surveys his work. You slowly open your eyes, adjusting to the light, watching his hungry gaze on your breasts. You lift your head slightly to see them, watching his fingertip as he caresses over first one nipple, then the other, both swollen and almost red from his ministrations. “God, you’re beautiful,” he growls, his gaze almost predatory as your eyes meet, just before he crushes his lips to yours. His hands tear at your panties, ripping them apart and shoving them out of his way. He devours your cries as he scoops an arm behind one knee and thrusts into you to the limit, and your body arches up beneath him as you explode, every muscle seizing and grasping, your pulse drowning out every other sound in your ears. He’s pounding into you mercilessly, finally lifting his head and throwing it back with a roar as he comes, and you shudder hard with him, clenching and trembling around his pulsing cock with a hoarse cry of his name.

When he slows, then stops, your body simply melts into the mattress. It barely registers when he pulls himself out, sending a tremor through you. He gathers you in, cradling your head on his chest as he covers you both, and you fall asleep with the light still on, Dean’s hand smoothing over your skin until he finally joins you.

~~~~~

The next morning, Dean is still sleeping when you slip out of bed. You smile down at him, his face half-buried in the pillow, hair tousled, and resist the urge to crawl back in and wake him up. You grab his robe from the hook by the door and head for the shower to wash away the sticky remnants of the night before.

You let the temperature even out and step beneath the water, hanging your head back to let it cascade through your hair and over your back. The mild, delicious ache between your thighs fondly reminds you of Dean’s need for you last night, his nearly desperate, deep thrusts, and you sigh happily.

You wash your hair and turn to face the pelting water, then step back with a hiss as the spray hits your chest. Your nipples are still swollen, dark, and you clench your teeth as you let the drops pelt you, sending little zings through every nerve. It’s  _almost_  pain, but so exquisitely lovely that you stand there longer than truly necessary, remembering every moment of Dean’s lips and tongue, teeth and fingertips teasing and lovingly torturing you the night before.

After you shower, carefully patting the moisture from your body, unable to bear actually rubbing the towel over your tender breasts, you slip Dean’s soft robe on and pad quietly back to the room. He stirs a little as you open a dresser drawer, and then you hear his voice, husky with sleep. “Mornin’.” You turn to smile at him, and he rolls to his side, propping himself up on one elbow. “C’mere, baby.”

You smile and go to perch on the side of the bed, bending to kiss him. He leans in for another, then pulls back, his eyes shining, as he reaches for the ties on his robe. “Can I see?” he asks softly, watching your face, and you nod, feeling your body flush hot. He works the knot loose, pulling the robe open, and you feel yourself getting wet again at the soft moan he makes low in his throat. “Fuck, baby…” He leans close and you watch as his plush lips surround your nipple, his eyes closing, thick lashes fanning over his cheeks as he suckles gently. You can’t help yourself, both hands in his hair, holding him close as you gasp for air at the pleasurable torment. He moves to the other side, and your eyes drift shut, your head drops back and your thighs clamp together helplessly. He moves back after a moment, blowing across the saliva-slick buds, watching them grow impossibly tighter. “So fucking hot, baby. You’re gonna make me crazy today.” He puts a hand behind your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you hard, then resting his forehead against yours. “Will you do something for me?”

You look into his eyes. At this moment, you’d do anything for him. “Yes, Dean.”

“When you get dressed, don’t wear a bra. Just put on one of my flannels.”

“But Sam…”

“My shirt’s big enough, he won’t notice. And even if he does, he won’t care. Besides, he has a hot date later on, he’ll be gone after lunch, and probably won’t be back tonight, if I had to guess.”

You smile. “Convenient.”

“Isn’t it?” Dean’s grin, the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart swell. “So – will you?”

“Sure. I guess…”

He puts a hand to your face, tracing a finger along your jaw line. “I want to be able to just pop a couple of buttons and get to those beauties any time I want to today. Okay, baby?” The tone of his voice is a little lower now, a little rougher, and you feel goosebumps.

“Yes, Dean.”

“Even if Sammy’s in the next room.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Whatever you’re doing, if I want to play, you’re okay with that?”

“God… Yes, I’m so okay with that.”

“Awesome.” His eyes are sparkling as he leans in to kiss you again. “I’m gonna go shower.”

~~~~~

And so it begins. You’re doing laundry, and suddenly he’s behind you, flipping you around and lifting you up to sit on the dryer, his eyes dark as he reaches for your buttons. He sucks and nips at you, your wrists held in a firm grip behind your back, merciless as you whimper and tremble. Then he straightens, leaning down to kiss you, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as he finishes, turning to leave you breathless and exposed, eyes glazed over with lust. You finally manage to slide back down to the floor, fastening the buttons again, gasping at the feel of the soft fabric against your nipples as you continue with your task.

 

You’re all sitting in the library, researching and looking for cases, typical on a down day. Sam leaves to go to the bathroom, and Dean is up and behind you in a flash, exposing you again, his fingers pinching and twisting gently, making you moan his name. “Shhhhh, baby – don’t want Sammy to hear, do you?” Your thighs are squeezed together so hard you’re shaking, and he gives one more little pinch to each tight furl as he leaves you to cover yourself, which you barely manage before Sam walks back into the room.

“You okay, Y/N?” He looks concerned, and you struggle to answer normally.

“Yeah, I’m fine… just a little headache.”

“You sure? You look really flushed.” You shoot a glare across at Dean, who is smothering a smile behind his laptop screen.

“Fine. Really, Sam.” You kick lightly at Dean’s shin under the table, but he just looks at you, eyes twinkling, and then back to the computer. Asshole.

 

You had promised the boys home cooking, so you head for the kitchen later in the morning. You’re completely on edge now, since Dean has been taking advantage of every opportunity to tease at your nipples, keeping them tender and swollen. Every sound makes you jump, expecting to be half naked and at his mercy at any given moment.

He at least gives you time to get the casserole thrown together and in the oven, and ingredients out to make dessert, before you feel him standing behind you. You let out a little whine, and he bends to kiss your neck with a dark little chuckle, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons yet again. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. You go ahead with what you’re doing, I won’t bother you. Too much.” Your knees almost give way as he rubs his palms in gentle circles over you, barely touching but still sending electricity buzzing through you. He stops suddenly, and you tip your head back to take a peek at his face. He’s smiling, staring at the baking ingredients on the counter, and you close your eyes in a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

“What?”

“I have an idea.”

He leaves you, opening the refrigerator, and you watch nervously. “Where’s Sam?”

“In the shower. Told you he has a hot date, he’s leaving right after lunch.” Dean stands and turns, a triumphant grin on his face. “Found it!”

“Oh, god…” He’s holding the jar of hot fudge sauce, and you can feel yourself trembling already.

“Up you go,” he says, hands at your waist, boosting you to sit on the counter. He grabs a spoon from the silverware drawer and opens the jar, dipping the spoon in and stirring a little. “That’ll work.” He sets the jar down and unfastens the first three buttons on your borrowed shirt, draping it open and fully exposing your breasts to him. His eyes meet yours, and he stops for a moment. “We can stop, if you want. You have to tell me, sweetheart, if it’s too much.”

“I will.” Your voice is a little shaky, and his brows bunch a little in concern. “I promise, Dean. I’ll tell you if I need to stop.” You smile, and he relaxes, smiling back at you.

“Okay. This is gonna be cold.” You hold your breath as he takes the spoon and pulls a glob of sticky chocolate from the jar. He dips a fingertip in, then smears it over your nipple and areola, adding more until it’s completely covered with the sweet goo, then coating the other breast as well. He takes a step back to survey his work, nodding with a smirk. “Now that’s what I call dessert.”

The chilly fudge actually feels wonderful, cool relief on your overstimulated nipples, and Dean looks so delighted you have to smile. He leans in to kiss you, then holds his chocolate-coated finger to your lips. You lick it off for him and watch his lashes flutter a little at the feeling.  

You brace your hands behind you on the counter as Dean bends down, his mouth covering the melting chocolate on your left breast, sucking softly and licking it away, making you squirm. His hot mouth contrasted with the cold fudge is phenomenal, and when he splays his hand at the top of your thigh, his thumb only millimeters away from your throbbing core, your hips buck a little, urging him to touch. He moans a little, raising his head for a moment to look at you with lust-blown eyes. “Later, baby, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good. Trust me?”

You nod, smothering a desperate little whine in your throat, and he goes back to work, cleaning both nipples completely and leaving you a panting wreck on the counter. You hear Sam calling his brother’s name, and he kisses you quickly, pulling your shirt together as you fasten the buttons with shaking fingers. He smiles at you, eyes glowing, and is still kissing you when Sam enters the kitchen.

“Get a room, you two,” he teases, grinning as you blush, and Dean turns to face him. “Hey, Dean – mind if I use Baby tonight?”

Dean reaches into his pocket and tosses the keys. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Sammy.”

“Well, that leaves things wide open, doesn’t it?” Sam quips, and you giggle. “Lunch almost ready?”

You nod, jumping down from the counter and heading to the oven. The casserole is hot and bubbly, and you take it out, setting it in the middle of the table. “Sorry, Sam – no dessert. I got interrupted.”

~~~~~

Sam drops a kiss on top of your head as he takes his plate to the sink and heads for the door. “Thanks, that was awesome, Y/N.” He turns to grin and wink in the doorway. “Don’t wait up.”

“Make good choices, Sammy!” Dean calls after him, grinning happily. “About time he hooked up.” You slap his arm, and he ducks his head, still smiling. “I mean, about time he found himself a girl.”

“You are such a  _guy_ ,” you reply, rising from your chair to clear the table. Dean helps you clean up, which doesn’t take long, and then his arms surround you from behind as you hang up the dish towel.

“So, now… how about a movie?”

You lean back against him. “Sounds great.”

“Awesome. Meet me in the bedroom, sexy.” He leans down to kiss your neck, and then he’s gone. God only knows what he’s up to now.

When you walk in, your mouth drops open a little. When did he have time to do this? Candles are lit in various spots around the room, lending a romantic glow to the usually ordinary area. There are roughly 500 pillows along the head of the bed, and Dean lounges against them wearing only his boxers, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. “Very nice,” you say, and he smiles happily.

“You like?”

“Oh, I definitely like,” you purr, eyes pointedly roaming over his body, and his lips curve in a smirk. You kick off your shoes and strip down to just the flannel and your panties, then crawl up on the bed beside him. He hands you a glass of whiskey, your favorite sipping brand, and you take a swallow, feeling the warmth all the way down to your belly.

“Right here, baby,” he directs, patting the mattress between his thighs, and you bend for a kiss before settling into that space, letting him snug you up tight against him. He hugs you as you rest yourself against his chest, dropping gentle kisses on your neck. He aims the remote and pulls up Netflix, and together you choose a random thriller that neither of you has seen. You know, and he knows, that it doesn’t really matter.

You both sip at your drinks, relaxing into each other, your fingers trailing absently over his thighs and his combing through your hair as he takes it out of its tie. He lets it fall loose over your shoulders, and he sets his drink down for a moment as he gives your upper arms a squeeze. “Why don’t you open up that shirt for me, sweetheart.” Your heart trips over itself, and you hold your whiskey up, letting him take it from your hand while you work the buttons free. He hands your drink to you again as you lean back against him, and he brushes the shirt open wide, his breath warm on your skin as he breathes out a “damn,” his hips brushing up against your back, his cock beginning to swell.

You roll your head to the side to look up into his face with a teasing smile. “You like?”

“Oh, I definitely like.” The words rumble in his chest, his voice almost a growl. He kisses you, deep and slow, then pulls your shoulders back against him as the movie begins. The anticipation is making you breathless, but he’s content at the moment to let his eyes roam over you as you both finish your drinks. He takes your glass and pours you a refill, and after a time you relax, letting the liquor fill you with its pleasant warmth.

When you finish the second glass, he takes it from you, whispering, “More?” into your ear.

“No, I’m good,” you answer, and his lips nibble at your earlobe, making you shiver.

“Mmmm, yes, you are,” he responds, setting both glasses on the bedside table. He opens the drawer and rustles around until he finds what he’s looking for, and you crane your neck to see. “You’re delicious already, but I thought I’d add a little extra flavor,” he says, snapping open the cap on the small bottle he’s holding, and the aroma of vanilla and cherries wafts over you. He is going to be the death of you tonight.

He sets the bottle down for a moment, slipping his fingers beneath the collar of the open shirt you’re still wearing and pulling it down to expose your shoulders. He pours a little of the flavored oil in his hand and rubs his palms together, then begins a gentle massage on your shoulders and the slope of your neck. You let out a decadent groan, your eyes closing at the pure pleasure. “You are going to ruin me.”

He chuckles, low and sexy, and brushes his lips over the shell of your ear. “That’s the plan. Ruin you for every other man on the planet.”

You squeeze at his thigh, sighing. “Oh, you already have. But please – don’t stop.”

“Oh, I’m not stopping – not until you give me what I want,” he whispers, then nibbles at your earlobe again, and want pulses through you, making you moan.

He takes his sweet time, working the flannel completely off of you and tossing it aside to rub the aromatic oil down your arms, then leans you forward to work over your back. It feels heavenly, and you’ve never been so relaxed and yet so aroused in your life. When he has covered every last inch of your back, he pulls you back to lean on him again, his erection hard and warm behind you. The cap pops open again, and then he starts from your collarbone, down and around your breasts, over your ribs and belly, leaving the best for last. He’s nibbling at you as he works, little sucking kisses, his tongue lapping up the flavor from your skin, and as he finally touches the soft, rounded flesh of one breast, your body sings. He again takes his time, touching everywhere but your tingling nipples, and you are craving his touch down lower where you can feel your pulse pounding with every beat of your heart. “Dean,” you whisper, and the little moan that he muffles in your soft skin makes your hips arch up from the bed.

“Easy, sweetheart. Just relax and let go.” He has caressed each breast with the oil, the delicious fragrance filling the room as your body warms it, and finally…  _finally_ … he covers them both with his hands, squeezing with a soft groan. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, and goosebumps bloom over your skin, your nipples hardening beneath his palms. He pulls his fingers together slowly to meet at the stiff peaks, over and over until you are a squirming, whimpering mess in his arms.

He pops the cap open one more time, tipping to coat his fingertip, then circling around each nipple and over the tips, rubbing as you tremble, gasping at the intensity. His teasing all day long has you hypersensitive and on edge, and you roll your head back against his chest, your cunt constricting around nothing, longing to be filled. He can see your thighs clenching together, and he brushes his lips over your ear again, his voice low and gravelly with his own arousal. “You come for me like this, baby, and I’ll fill you up so good. You feel this?” He rubs his hard cock against your lower back, and you almost sob with your intense longing for him. “I want to be inside you so bad right now, but you need to come for me. I know you can, you’re almost there. Want me to suck on those beautiful nipples, get you off so I can fuck you hard?”

You nod, whimpering, “Please…” and he slips out from behind you, propping you up against the pillows and straddling your legs, trapping your thighs together between his. He kisses you, fast and rough, then bends down to suck one nipple into his hot mouth as he plucks at the other. He keeps his desperation at bay, teasing at you, sucking and nibbling and nipping until you can’t remain quiet any longer. You are begging, swearing and calling out his name, bucking up underneath him, every nerve in your body electrified. He bites down with gentle pressure, squeezing the other nipple in his fingertips, showing no mercy until you shout, and suddenly you can’t breathe. Your muscles seize and you erupt in a nova of white hot pleasure, your release soaking through your panties and slicking your thighs.

He’s panting almost as hard as you are, his damp forehead resting against your shoulder as your chest heaves, your heart pounding like a hammer within you. His hand slips away from your breast and down your side as he moves from over you, slipping his fingers up between your thighs and swearing softly as they glide through your slick. “Fuck, baby, even better than I imagined.” He brings his coated fingertips to his mouth and sucks your flavor from them, then bends to kiss you. “You still with me, sweetheart?”

You blink up at him and smile, languid and lazy. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Winchester.” He grins, his eyes shining.

“Glad to hear it. ‘Cuz we’re not done yet. I promised to fill you up, and I always keep my promises.”

He rids you of your ruined panties and strips off his boxers, slotting himself between your thighs. He lowers himself down to kiss you hungrily, and you are already shaking with want for him again, moaning at the friction of his erection against your sensitive clit. Your hips jump, eager, and he stares into your eyes as he reaches between you to line up with your entrance, pushing his way inside in one smooth plunge. His jaw works as he holds himself steady, watching your eyelids flutter back open after the sweet intrusion.

His lips crash into yours again as he begins to move, both of you gasping and moaning at the delicious friction, at each collision of his body into yours. Your fingers grip at his shoulders, nails pressing deep, your thighs clamped tight around him as he ramps up, slamming deep with each thrust, his forehead pressed into the pillow beside your head. “I… can’t… last long, you’ve got me too…” he grits out, and you cry out as he hits just the right spot.

“I’m almost… just fuck me, Dean… oh, god…” you manage, and then you arch up beneath him,  shaking. He swears as you clench around his cock like a vise and buck wildly against him, and he drives in hard a few more times before he lets out a strangled cry and pulses inside you, filling you with heat.

You both lie there quietly until an aftershock sends a tremor through you, making him hiss. He pulls out gingerly and drops down beside you, laughing softly at your shudder as he pulls you close. You smile against his shoulder, and he brings a hand to your face, kissing you gently.

You gaze into his eyes, sated and sleepy. “Yep. You’ve gone and done it. Ruined me. Now you’re stuck with me forever.”

He raises his eyebrows with a sexy, satisfied little pout on his lips. “So my evil plan worked.” You giggle as he kisses you again and hugs you tight. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve ruined me, too.”

“Good, ‘cuz I’m not good at sharing.”

He moves back far enough to look into your eyes, his soul shining there. “All I need is you.”

He kisses you breathless again, and all you can think is, “Yeah. Ruined.”

 


End file.
